If I told you
“I love you”
how would I know
I wasn’t talking
to some shadow
some mirror image
burnt in
forgotten
childhood
fantastical
yearning?

If I slipped
just once
and told you
“You remind me
of my mother”

Would I
cringe
embarrassed
certain
of complexes
oedipal
and churning?

If I told you
I was freeing
myself
of constraints
obstacles
created
by no other
than
me
myself
I
would I…

Oh
who gives a
fuck?
Such
self-analytic
navel-gazing
Just kiss me
beautiful
and I’ll
be happy
just being
what I am
today

[from Todd’s prompt: “Freudian”]